


Erwarth, Captain of the Army of Mirkwood

by LizzieHopscotch



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Drabbleish, Gen, Thranduil's elf army, battle of the five armies, headcannon, not a fix it, not entirely sure what im doing, not nice Thranduil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 16:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6160292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzieHopscotch/pseuds/LizzieHopscotch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Thranduil never gave the order for the elves to join the battle? </p><p>A quick look at what could have happened on the battlefield.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erwarth, Captain of the Army of Mirkwood

**Author's Note:**

> So when I saw the film at the cinema, and the elves did the epic orc killing leapfrog my immediate thought was that there was no way Thranduil ordered them to do that.
> 
> So...shit I dunno how long later I hate maths, I decided to write out my little drabble headcannon thing. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

His name was Erwarth and he followed his king.

He followed him over mountains and through forests. He marched against orcs and spiders. A Captain of the Greenwood’s Army.

Mirkwood’s Army.

And now he stood outside the grand gates of Erebor. His unit was at the rear of the formation, positioned so that any dishonourable attacks could be dealt with swiftly and without mercy. It was why the men were in the centre. His majesty had told the Dragonslayer that it was to protect the inexperienced.

Erwarth Knew it was so it would be easier to kill them if need be.

He watched the tension in his king’s shoulders, knew that negotiations had been concluded.

Then the horns sounded and the dwarves marched from over the ridge.

Dain made him smile.

Inwardly.

Because smiling as a dwarf insulted your king was generally not a good idea.

Especially if your King was _Thranduil_ who hated dwarves with every fibre of his being. And his elk’s.

Arrows were nocked and bows drawn.

Spears were lowered and hands toyed with their sword hilts.

Then the orcs came.

Hells _teeth._

It was impressive actually. The way Dain’s troops changed course immediately. You could almost hear their thoughts.

 _Fuck_ the elves there are _orcs_ here. Let’s kill _them_ , yeah!

There were no orders from the front.

Behind him he could hear the dwarves forming a wall, Dain’s voice ringing out with orders to _stand strong and fight. We’re gonna rid Erebor of this scum!_

Still nothing from the king. He had turned on his elk and was looking out at his troops, his face cold and impassive.

It used to be, when Erwarth was just beginning his service as a soldier that he found this comforting. He was following a leader who was calm in the heat of battle, who could do what needed to be done. As his battle count grew (and with it his kill count) he started to find it disconcerting.

He was following a leader who saw his soldiers as nothing more than fodder for his campaign. He cared nothing for those under his command. Erwarth decided he never wanted to be like that.

Now though, his king’s face is fixed on the wall of dwarves behind him.

Five hundred against so many…Erwarth waited.

And waited.

The thundering and screaming of orcs was deafening.   

And still there was nothing from his leader, his commander, his king.

Just eyes like ice.

Erwarth was not like that.

It was his squad of troops that were the closest. The moment the dwarves fell, they would die.

He turned.

His squad turned with him.

The sight of thousands of orcs and trolls (where did they find that many?) running at full tilt at a fragile wall of metal, flesh and bone was enough to make him falter.

Was this why Thranduil couldn’t care? Because he’d sent so many to their death?

But he never gave the order.

Him, the son of Oropher, would let the other races of Middle Earth fall so long as his kingdom of leaves and spiders were safe.

Erwarth felt slow and heavy, even as his legs raced towards the dwarves. He was committing treason, betraying orders on the field of battle, possibly condemning the lives of those under him, his friends.

Oh this was a terrible idea.

But the right thing?

He was sure of that, as he leapt over the wall of dwarves, driving his sword through an orc. And the next one, and the next one.

The cold face of his king was forgotten as black blood dripped from his blade, and the battle raged around him.

 


End file.
